


A Trip to the Ocean

by shiiki



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2019-03-28 04:01:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13895808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiiki/pseuds/shiiki
Summary: Sally can't wait to share Montauk with Percy.





	A Trip to the Ocean

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 3 of [percyjacksonweek2k17](http://percyjacksonweek2k17.tumblr.com), for the prompt: [the ocean / water](https://percyjacksonweek2k17.tumblr.com/post/164392669691/day-three-the-oceanwater).

'Are we there yet?'

Sally had lost count of the number of times she had answered Percy’s impatient question. Although the drive to Montauk was only a little over two hours, making her hyperactive son sit strapped in the back seat for that much time was still a big ask. They’d already run through 'I Spy' and 'Twenty Colours' and 'Name that Fish' _and_ every song from _The Little Mermaid_ twice, and Sally was running out of ideas to hold his attention.

He was now shaking the empty tip jar Sally had kept on her counter at Sweet On America and brought home every evening so that Percy could add a coin to it. Even if the coins he added technically came from her to begin with.

The tip jar was symbolic, anyway.

It had started with a movie. She’d rented a DVD of _The Little Mermaid_ as a treat for Percy, who’d been on a fish craze lately. Percy had been captivated by the vast underwater kingdom depicted in the movie, with its caves and castles (to be honest, Sally had found herself wondering, too, if Poseidon’s actual home really resembled Triton’s palace, or if that was just a Disney over-exaggeration; she supposed she’d never find out), and the variety of singing sea creatures (although she was quickly getting tired of _Under the Sea_ belted out ten times a day by an enthusiastic six-year-old). He’d wanted to know if he could find them in the river, and it hit Sally with a giant pang what a travesty it was that the son of the sea god himself had never seen the ocean.

She’d started the tip jar the next day.

'You see this jar, Percy? We’re saving up to take a trip. We’ll put money in it every day and when it’s full, I’m going to rent a car and take you to see the ocean.'

Percy had taken to the idea with gusto, insisting that he contribute. And so every night, he had dutifully placed every dime of his pocket money into the jar, on top of all Sally’s tips.

It didn’t matter that Percy’s pocket change—or indeed the actual tips Sally received at the candy store—didn’t actually add up to much. Percy loved believing that he was working towards the cost of their trip, and so began their weekly ritual of counting out the pennies and dimes they’d collected. Percy’s teachers were no doubt flummoxed by how much his math had improved during the term they spent saving for Montauk.

By the time summer rolled round, Sally had painstakingly carved out enough from her monthly paychecks—or whatever taxes and Gabe hadn’t taken out of it anyway—to rent both a car and a cabin at Montauk, talked Gabe into letting them go for a week (she’d been terrified for a moment that he’d insist on coming along, but he’d been mollified by the contents of the tip jar—turned out it was good for _something_ —and her promise to load him up with enough beer and her best cooking), and begged a week’s leave from her boss.

And here they were, on their way to a week of sun, surf, and freedom.

Sally rolled down the windows. They were close enough now that the smell of salt hung in the humid sea air.

'Are we there yet?' Percy asked again.

'Almost,' Sally promised. 'Do you smell that?'

In the rear view mirror, Sally watched Percy put his nose in the air and sniff obediently. He was so cute.

'What’s that, Mommy?'

'That’s the smell of the ocean, honey.' Sally took in a deep breath. To her, the thick, salty scent smelt of serenity and comfort and a love that had swept her off her feet quicker than the riptide of a building wave.

To her, Montauk was summer.

Montauk was Poseidon.

Montauk was freedom.

She couldn’t wait to share all that with Percy.

Maybe some people would judge her for prioritising a holiday to the beach over other necessities—like remedial classes for school or a college fund. But this was important. Montauk and the ocean weren’t just a holiday.

The sea was Percy’s heritage.

And damned if she’d let him grow up without knowing it.  



End file.
